Because you can just give it back

It's my vacation from my vacation day and I can't help feeling this impending sense of doom for what the rest of this year will be like. Maybe it's a vacation postpartum, but I'm a little depressed and angsty.

Let's start at the beginning. I went to Michigan for a few days to see family and relax and generally connect with people I'm related to by chance. I love my family, in fact sometimes the love I feel for my family is so deep and so encompassing that I'm not sure what I would do if I didn't have them. Other times I just wish I could start over and be independent of their influence on me. About four years ago, my dad went into business for himself and unbeknownst to me, apparently his business is fledgling. My mom went into great detail about their finances while I was home. Apparently they've drained their retirement funds and are living on my mom's salary right now. They're mortgaged beyond their resources and now they're spending what should be their pre-retirement time working like dogs to have some income. Just income. Not retirement or spending money or entertainment change. Income. I'm so angry and sad and anxious and worried for them. I'm mad at my mom for blaming the situation on my dad. I'm mad at them for continually pissing their money and their lives away. I'm mad at them for passing along their insecurities and bad habits to their kids. But I'm mostly just sad because there isn't a damn thing I can do to help them. My parents are undoubtedly best friends, but in someways I think they just feed into one another's weaknesses. I want so badly to not take on their stuff; to just give it back and be ok with that. I don't know that I'll get there, but I know that I need to.

I went to my first group therapy today. I met amazing, wonderful, beautiful, intelligent, and completely charming women. I was the youngest of the group, but somehow my voice resonated within these women. I'm starting realize how much disordered eating affects women in general. It's not just the underweight and overweight. There is a therapist and a personal trainer in my group. There's a new mom and a lady with grandchildren in my group. There are women with more education than me and less education than me in my group. As heart wrenching as it was to hear their stories, to hear the years that they had been tortured by their own thoughts, to hear the passion in their voices when they talked about recovery, it was even more overwhelming to feel so connected so immediately with strangers. Every time someone spoke, every head in the room nodded in unison. They got me. They understood what it was like to turn to food to cope with life and not even realize you're doing it. They knew what it meant to just try to numb yourself enough to not have to think about how fat or skinny you are. But they also knew what it was like to want to feel free from all that. To just live and appreciate how blessed our lives are. To appreciate people and scenery and activity and love. To just be.

After my time in Michigan I headed to San Francisco with my dear friend. It was completely wonderful and I can still smell the salty air and feel the cool breeze against my face. My nose is peeling from a sunburn, my legs are sore from hauling up hills, and my heart is laying somewhere in Union Square. But it was beautiful and I guess that without the bitter, the sweet just ain't as sweet.